Sour Whiskey and Crimson Lips
by leadworthpond
Summary: John Smith is a regular bloke working on a publishing office, all is well, all is fine (sort of) until his new boss comes 'round.
1. The New Boss

My name is John Smith, I'm 26 years old, and my life is boring.

Well, _almost_ boring.

See, I had a girlfriend, her name was Bailey. And I loved Bailey. She had brown eyes, long, soft black hair, I was taller than her, so she had to stand on my toes to kiss me, she had a cream complexion, and she was just _perfect._

That is until I found out she was an evil beast from hell.

I got home early from work, and I go into my room and I found her there...with another man...who's not me...I found my girlfriend in bed with another man who's not me. Great.

Of course, we had a major fight, and we broke up. She started blabbering about me never paying attention to her and how she needed another guy...a better guy than me...that really hit me, so obviously, I kicked her out of the house...along with that bald, unattrac-okay, he was slightly attractive-bloke.

It's been four days, and trust me, a lot can happen on four days.

Manchester United can loose a match whilst they were holding an undefeated streak, in four days, your longtime girlfriend of two years can cheat on you, in four days, and you can get a new boss, in four days.

"Well, kids, I am Miss Pond, I am your new boss. Before we do anything else, I'm gonna set you some limits; 1. no snogging in my bloody office, 2. don't try to flirt with me, you'll end up fired and with a black eye, 3. if any of you lot buy me a coffee without me asking you for it, I might not yell at you-" She said a bunch of other things…long things, at that, but I was too busy staring at her...as if…as if she was a work of art-and I suppose in a way, she was. Long, ginger hair that stops at the waist, side bangs, colourful nails, and never-ending legs...as if God had hand-made her himself. "-Right, then, get to work, shoo." I shook my head, trying to get out of my daze. I walked up to the beautiful (and massively scary, might I add) goddess and offered my hand with a smile, she saw me coming towards her and she made a look of either confusion or disgust…I couldn't tell.

"Miss Pond...I'm John, John Smith, your, err, assistant? My, um, desk is right outside your office and I may have held out a conversation about this on our way up to the elevator?" She took in a deep breath, "yes, correct, John, hello again," she didn't bother to even look at my hand, so it slowly fell down back to my side.

She turned away from me and curled her finger as she disappeared into her office, of course, I followed.

I entered the room, and it was utterly different...I mean, _she_ was different to my old boss also (he was bald and short and fat and cracked lots of dad jokes, but still nicer than Ms. Pond.) The smell of old man cologne and books was gone...and I couldn't really see where I was going, I mean, the place was filled with cigarette smoke, and you could easily smell the bottle of whisky that rested on the table even from where I was standing.

"Okay, John, close the door," I did so, and in a minute, she was in front of me, and I was pinned against the now-closed-door. Ms. Pond took the cigar out of her mouth and held it in between her index and middle finger, letting out the smoke and blowing it onto my face, I coughed. "Listen to me, pretty boy, just because I'm your new lady-boss, doesn't mean you can act all funny and giddy and do things carelessly," she placed the bottom of the lipstick stained cigar between her teeth again, "also…speak to that poor Jessy Clark that sits across from you," as she reached for the door knob, she whispered in my ear carefully, "I heard she likes you." Ms. Pond pulled away and stood a few inches away from me, and in a low, husky voice she said, "Have a good day, Mr. Smith, and send up those drafts from Mr. Gold as soon as they get here," she smirked and walked back to her own desk, the palms of her hands against the wooden frame, "off you pop, John."

And with that, I nodded and got out of that god-for-saken-room a little faster than I intended. I sat down on my desk with my hands shaking and my heart racing as fast as ever.

This was going to be a hard day.

No.

This was going to be a hard _year._


	2. Slurred Words and Broken Eyes

Every day continued as my boring routine. Wake up, buy doughnuts, hand them out to my co-workers, borrow a few drafts to read, give them to Ms. Pond, _be utterly terrified of , _and go home.

One night though, one night was different.

I placed my shaking hand on the doorknob, slowly turning it and peeking my head in. " ? I just, err, wanted to say that I was heading off now...and-" I frowned, was she...sleeping on her desk? I slowly walked towards her, her eternal bottle of whiskey was actually empty...oh, god, this can't be happening.

When I reached out to tap her shoulder, she looked up and smiled like a drunk would, "Jooohn!" She's slurring her words, another bloody great sign, "helloooooo!" I gulped. What was I gonna do? She was drunk, I was heading home, and she couldn't drive in this state...well, actually, I knew for a fact that she walked to the office everyday...perhaps I could take her to her house?

"Ms. Pond?" She nodded and made a lousy attempt at standing up, "whoops!" I immediately grabbed her arm with my left and wrapped my arm around her with my right, I knew she would probably remember this and end up firing me, but I needed to help her. "Where do you live, ma'am? I'm going to take you home," she scoffed, "I-I'm not twellin-twelling you where I live!" I sighed, fucking great.

It was bloody hard trying to get her to shut up once I put her in my car, I swear, she spoke in circles. I sat down and put my seatbelt on, forgetting that _I_ had to put _her_ seatbelt on. I shut my eyes for a moment, trying to gain my confidence. I reached over, and until I heard that heavenly 'click' I begun to breathe again. "Woooah, there, boy, are you this forward with phwysical contact with everyyyyyy girl?" She let out a wink, the smell of alcohol that exited her mouth was intoxicating.

Once again, I had to wrap my arms around her for support, and until she was sitting down on my couch, I didn't dare speak. "Right, um...I'm going to, err, go to bed now, , you can sleep here, if you like." I was kneeling beside her, and she was looking into my eyes...but...I didn't see her eyes like they used to be, and I didn't mean the beautiful emerald colour, I meant that instead of strength and coldness, I saw...hurt and pain. I opened my mouth to speak, but before any actual words could come out, it was captured by my boss's lips. Her hands were on my cheeks, and she was pulling me towards her, my arms were trapping her against the couch, I wanted to keep kissing her...god, did I, but I pulled away, and she frowned.

"What? D-don't you l-like me?" again with the slurring...I grabbed her hands and held them both in between mine, I shook my head, "I do, actually, a lot...but you're drunk and you don't like me this way, I know...I like you a lot but that would be me taking advantage of you and I don't want to do that."

I kissed her hand and stood up, in a quiet voice I said, "goodnight, Pond."

It was around 3:30 am when I was awoken by some arms being wrapped around me slowly and warmth being let onto my neck. And again, I smelled that bitter whiskey. My eyes went wide.

_It was her._


	3. Loud Mornings and Wet Clothing

I turned my head around, and there she was...was she...I think she was asleep? W-when did she get here? I mean _what?_

I was going to move, this was so wrong, and just when I was about to, she moved her porcelain leg and wrapped it around mine. I was trapped, literally.

I moved my head away a bit, so when she woke up this didn't look so wrong.

The next morning, instead of being awakened by the beautiful sunlight and birds, I was awoken with a scream.

I opened my eyes and she slapped me, I moved my hand to my cheek, rubbing it, "what the hell!?" I managed to say, as she stood up and pressed her back to my wall, "you," she gulped, "why am I in your house, in your room, and why was I _in your bed?"_ I sat up, "y-you were drunk, you wouldn't tell me where you lived, and I couldn't leave you back in the office I-Oi! You shouldn't be talking! You came _in_ my bed on the first place, an-and you _kissed_ me!"

Ms. Pond scoffed, "what?! I didn't-oh, no, oh god," she buried her face in her hands, "fuck." I took in a deep breath and my voice was silent, "w-what was the reason as to why you were drunk?" She let her hand drop as she looked away, "my, uh, boyfriend...he, um," she looked at me with watery eyes and a shrug, "he cheated on me, with another woman."

I certainly knew how that felt, I clenched the sheets and looked at my hands, "mine, um, mine too-not my boyfriend though," I said urgently, looking at her, "I-I'm not gay, err, I meant, my _girlfriend_ cheated on me with, um, another man."

She nodded slowly, "um...I should go," I stood up from my bed quickly, standing in front of her and getting ahold of her wrist, "wait, can-can we at least talk about yesterday? I mean, I know the kiss you gave me might've been a mistake-" she cut me off, closing her eyes, "it _was_ a mistake, John, and I really am not in the mood for talking, I'm tired and I've got a major hangover," I nodded slowly, she sniffled, her voice cracking a slight bit, "excuse me."

And like that, the woman I had started to felt something for left.

Earlier that day, my friend Rory called me to go and have a few drinks, I went with him, I needed a mate to talk to, but I really didn't _want_ to drink. I begun to wonder if it was Ms. Pond's fault.

"Hey, Rory," I said, shaking his hand with a forced smile as I sat on the pub's booth, "hey, mate, you look like crap," I let out a laugh, looking down and running my fingers along the rim of the glass of-wait, was that whiskey? Great, she's everywhere.

I cleared my throat, staring at the ice and yellow liquor that tasted like piss. "Is it really that obvious?" He chuckled, "no, I just know you," he took in a deep breath and got closer to my face by leaning on his elbows, "c'mon, what happened? Have you talked to Bailey or what?"

I shook my head, "I'm in love with my boss," I said, a bit too quietly, Rory's eyes widened, "you're gay!?" I grunted, "no, you arse, I have a new boss...her name's Ms. Pond," I took the glass in my palm and took a gulp, it tasted like shit. How the hell could she drink this all day? "She's a ginger," Rory frowned, "blimey, those are the best kind, falling in love with them is like pouring alcohol on your deepest wound, man," I snorted, "tell me about it, Williams." After going through another lecture about women with Rory, we said our goodbye's and agreed on seeing each other soon. I always felt better after talking with Rory.

I was watching the telly on my own back on my flat, my feet on the coffee table as I switched through the boring channels. However, my thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock on the door. I stood up, and I didn't even bother to button up my shirt, it was just plaid and a tank top anyways.

I begun to open the door, as well as to talk, "Listen, mate, I don't want to buy any-Ms. Pond?" I took in a deep breath, there she was, with her mascara spread all the way to her cheeks and her eyes red, her clothes were all red.

"John...can we talk?" I nodded and stepped aside so she could come in, I didn't notice the worried expression that was painted on my face until later, "always."


	4. New Loves and Fixed Hearts

I wrapped a dry towel around Ms. Pond whilst she dried her cheeks with a tissue. "Ms. Pond, wha-" she sniffled, breaking my words, "please, John, call me Amy. All this formality is making me sick," I nodded, sitting next to her, my hands gripping each other as my arms rested on my knees, "so...what happened?"

Amy took in a deep breath, and she looked at me straight in the eyes, "I didn't tell you the complete story about what happened with my boyfriend," she bit her lip.

"His name was Jeff, we had been together for four years and he was going to propose to me. I was sure he loved me, but I grew suspicious when he would come home late, leave on the weekends, and wouldn't let me borrow his phone."

She sighed, "one night, I was having business dinner with the owner of the company, and my soon-to-be fiancé was," she let out a laugh in between her sob, "having a date with another woman, how grand is that, John? I told my boss to excuse me, then going to confront that arsehole, and he started making up stuff that she was his cousin, and after I got him to admit that he was cheating on me, he said it was a mistake," she cleared her throat as she dabbed just below her eyes to get rid of some tears, "long story short, I told my boss that another day for dinner would be better."

Subconsciously, my hand went and grabbed hers, not noticing that my thumb was making circles on her palm, "Amy, he doesn't deserve you. I know tons of men that would die just to be in your presence," she looked up, and with her voice barely a whisper, she said, "would you?"

I nodded, avoiding her gaze, "oh, yes."

Just like the night before, she took my face in her hands and kissed me, my hand was on her torso as I kissed back.

The kiss was short, but for me, it went on for ages. She pulled away and kept her hands on my cheeks, our foreheads pressed against each other. "Thank you, for everything, John." I let out a chuckle, "no, no...trust me, thank you."

It has been two weeks, and a lot can happen in two weeks.

Arsenal can win two matches in a row in two weeks, you can move on from your old girlfriend in two weeks, and two broken people can fix each other in two weeks.

"Mr. Smith? Mr. Smith?" Said the voice in a sing-songy mode through the intercom, "Mr. Smith, wipe that drool off your mouth and come in my office please." I lifted my head and looked around, my eyes opening and closing, trying to get back to work. I stood up and walked inside my girlfriend's office, closing the door behind me.

"Blimey, that was a long nap, wasn't it, John?" She said, standing up and laughing. I have become immune to cigarette smoke and the smell of whiskey by now.

"There's more where that came from," I replied groggily, "oh, I know." She played with the lapels of my jacket, "would it be incredibly wrong if you kissed your boss right now?" I sighed and bit my lip, pulling a face that yelled 'I'm pretending to think!' "Well, yes. But who's there to tell us off?" She laughed her adorable, and uncontrollable laugh and planted a kiss on my lips, pulling away after a moment.

"Do you mind if we don't do anything tonight but watch telly and talk? I _really_ am not in the mood for going out, plus, these heels are killing me." I laughed, "we'll do whatever you want, Pond."

Amy was wearing a white tank top, pajama bottoms with bears saying 'i wuv you' all over them, and her hair in a bun. When I first met her, I would've thought that she probably slept in a bed of nails and in a suit, she was bloody scary, but now that I got to know her, she was the complete opposite (Mind you, I'm still absolutely _terrified_ of her.)

Her legs were on my lap as her head relaxed on my couch's arm rest, my own arm resting on her knees as I leaned back and propped up my feet on the coffee table. On any other day, she would scold me and tell me to put them down or I'll clean the dirt off with my tung, of course, I'd put them down in a second, but now, she was dead tired.

"Oi! Put that channel back on!" She said, offensively, and I scoffed, "what, _Keeping Up with the Kardashians?_ Really? I thought you hated them!" She stuttered, "I-I do, I just find their stupidity entertaining...that's all." I let out a chuckle and raised the volume, listening to Kim (or was it Kourtney?) fighting with this bloke called Scott. She _was_ right, this is entertaining.

After what seemed like a never-ending marathon of _Keeping Up with the Kardashians_, Amy fell asleep. All I remember seeing was her face being lighted by the moon and thinking that even without makeup, even without the whole 'I'll kick your arse' get-up, she was completely stunning. My beautiful, sassy, sarcastic, fiery, and flirty ginger girlfriend.


	5. Red Dresses and Ex-Lovers

I woke up the next morning to the smell of Earl Grey tea and the view of my girlfriend wearing one of my button-up shirts (except she was wearing her bra and my shirt wasn't buttoned-up like it's _supposed_ to be. Although, I swear I've no objections to her choice of apparel.)

"You snore a lot," she said, leaning against the doorway, a smirk on her face as she brought the rim of the mug to her lips, taking a sip of it. I stretched, yawning before I answered, "well, that means I had a good night's sleep." She giggled, "yeah, but that means _I_ didn't."

I shrugged, "if you want, I can go sleep on the couch and you'll have to be cold all night without my big, strong, manly arms to give you warmth," I said, trying not to let a laugh slip out, "don't you dare, Smith." Amy said, putting the cup on my desk, then lying back down with me.

Lazy Saturdays were heaven. She lay her head down on my left arm, so now, we were facing each other, I smiled. "What are you so happy about?" She asked, frowning, yet managing to look smug. "Why shouldn't I be? I'm dating my beautiful, ginger boss."

She bit her lip, "you're never getting over that, are you?" I took in a deep breath, then shook my head, "oh, no, I am not."

"Hey...I want you to meet someone, he's my best mate and I'm seeing him tonight down at the pub. Can you join?" Amy moved in closer to me and nuzzled my neck with her small nose, her eyelids closed, "mhmm, I could use a drink. Now hush, I haven't slept."

I followed her orders, shutting my mouth immediately and placing my right arm over her, my (apparently 'enormous', as she said,) chin on her head, slowly drifting back into sleep as I breathed in her scent.

"Amyyyyyy," I groaned, my head thrown back on the couch, "I'm coming! I'm gonna meet your best mate, don't you think I should look at least _decent?"_ I lazily moved my arm close to my face, letting another desperate sound as I looked at my watch, "we're gonna be late!"

Amelia scoffed, walking out my bedroom wearing a red dress, with matching high heels, and red lips as well. I, obviously not noticing the action, dropped my mouth open, "ugh, come on, you big baby." I shook my head and stood up, "right, yes, err, grab my arm?" She smiled at me, she enjoyed leaving me breathless...that evil ginger. She linked her arm with mine as she leaned on me, and as she did, I couldn't help remember that she had said earlier that she couldn't stand wearing high heels, and I couldn't contain the question, so I spoke,

**_"Why do you even wear them if they hurt so much?"_**

**_"Because, John, men are attracted to tall women."_**

I scoffed.

**_"I'm your boyfriend! You've already got me, why do you want to attract other men?"_**

**_"Oh, shut up."_**

That's all I could get out of Amelia Pond, which honestly, didn't explain a thing. But that is law, I once had an English professor that warned us that we should never, _ever_, argue with a woman, and if you do, you'll end up bringing her flowers and bringing Mexican musicians with you to sing outside of her window begging forgiveness...

We entered the pub, and Rory was giving his back to the door, so he couldn't (obviously) see us coming in. I tapped his shoulder, "oi, Rory, this is Amy," he turned 'round on the stool, and his jaw dropped, breathlessly, he spoke, "Amy?" I frowned, he was acting as if she'd seen her before, I looked at Amy, and the same expression lay on her face, "Rory?"

"Her!? You're dating _her!?"_ Rory said, frantically, pointing his finger at Amy. "Him!? _Really!?_ _Rory_ is your best mate!?" I let go of Amy and put my hands up defensively, "woah, woah, _what_ are you two going on about?"

Rory, Amy and I sat down on the same booth me and Rory were at a few weeks ago, it seemed that Amy had calmed down, but Rory looked uncomfortable. I blinked, "you...you two were...together?" I blurted out after their explanation, "h-how come I didn't know about this?" Amy looked at Rory, biting her lip, as if she was waiting for Rory to explain. "It was before you and I knew each other..." Rory said, twiddling his thumbs, "and you didn't say _anything_ when I told you I had fallen in love with her!?" Rory sighed, "I didn't know you were talking about _her,"_ he made a look of disgust, and I got a little mad.

Amy placed her hand on my arm, looking at me with an apologetic look (one I never had seen before,) I nodded, as if to say _I forgive you_, though, to be honest, I don't know what for, right now...my mind was in puzzles.


	6. Little' Talks and Unconsciousness

I looked down at my hands on the table, completely unaffected by the awkward silence I seemed to have let go past. The numbness was awoken by the sound of Rory's voice, "listen, I'm sorry, the both of you..." I looked up at Rory, my breath shaking. "I'm sorry to you, John, and I'm sorry to you, Amy, for being rude just then...I guess your breaking up with me left some anger in me that I didn't realise I had until now." Amy nodded, she seemed to be too hurt to even look at Rory, so she fixed her gaze on me. "No...no, it's fine, I'm just in a bit of a shock, that's all." I responded, now looking into Rory's eyes.

"Amy, would you at least look at me?" Rory gave her his puppy eyes, those always worked on me, especially when we were drunk and Rory was trying to get a tenner out of me.

"How could I?" She snapped, her voice broken. My head immediately turned to face her, my hand reaching slowly for hers. "I-I'm sorry, did I miss someth-" Rory cut me off, shutting his eyes as if to block a memory, "I was drunk, we were in high school, she kissed me," Rory said, slamming his hands on the table, "oh, you wanker! Might I remind you, you kissed her back!" I was having enough. All this shouting across the table and loud noises and scoffing and arguing-I was done.

Without warning, I stood up and left the booth, walking as fast-paced as I could outside of the pub, I didn't care anymore, I was going home.

About halfway past the sign labeled _The Red Rose Crown Pub_, I heard high heels stomping and a familiar Scottish accent calling after me, "John! Wait!" I turned around, a scowl on my face, "_what?"_ I hissed, and Amy took a step back, she was breathing heavily. "I-I'm sorry, okay? I let my old emotions come back and I couldn't control myself..." She took a few steps towards me and placed her hand on my arm, "just, let me stay here an hour more, no less. I need to talk some things with Rory, I need to settle this grudge we've had going on." I nodded, looking away. "Fine, yeah, I'll wait back home."

I turned around, continuing my path, when a pale hand with manicured black nails turned me around, I looked at Amy, and she caressed my cheek, walking towards me and planting a kiss on my lips. "I love you, John." I put my hand on top of hers, a barely visible smile on my face, "I love you, too. I'll see you back at the flat," Amy gave me a nod and raising the corners of her lips, turning on her heel and walking away, I stood there until I watched her disappear.

The walk home was lonely, I had grown used to having her hang on my arm and lean on my shoulder as she laughed at my stupid jokes (that I may have stolen from my old boss) or complained about her married sister always showing off, either way I was happy with her...I suddenly found myself smiling at the variety of memories. I shivered and stuck my hands in my pockets, it was bleeding cold. I breathed in the smell of beautiful, cold London and strolled back to my flat, then like sudden wind, a wave of mistrust and suspicion hit me, my stunning girlfriend and my attractive best mate together, in a bar, without me, I took in a deep breath and shook my head. _No, no, they'd never do that to me, no. I'd trust Amy with my life. Surely, I can trust that she won't do anything with Rory. And same goes to him. We've been best mates since college._

I entered the warmth of my flat and threw my jacket on the couch, loosening my tie before I stepped into my room and changed into my pyjamas that Amy had bought me since she thought that my other ones were worn out (sure, they had a few holes in them and my trousers were ripped at the bottom, but they weren't _completely destroyed.)_ I turned off the lights and opened the curtains, letting the light of London illuminate my bedroom as I worried myself to sleep. If Rory didn't walk Amy home after their talk, I wouldn't hesitate to murder him, London isn't a perfect place that doesn't have crime, for god's sake.

I leaned on my side and looked at my bedside table, a picture of me looking at Amy as she looked down, we were very happy, and I wouldn't trade Amy for all the money or jewels or gold in the world.

I left the pub at precisely 11:14pm, I remember because I glanced at my watch before I left the table, and I was awoken by the door being opened and a few chuckles at 4:32am. I slowly (and silently) stood up, making my way towards the doorway, to try and hear what was going on, the conversation went as followed;

**_"I had a great time tonight, Rory. Well, aside from the...you know."_**

She giggled.

**_"Yeah, uh, me too. I'd really like to see you again, Amy."_**

**_"Likewise. I'll see when I can, I've got work and I've got to take care of John."_**

He sighed.

**_"Yes, right, err, forgot."_**

**_"We've got a different shift tomorrow. Maybe whilst he's in the office I can sneak in and see you on your lunch break at the hospital?"_**

**_"Sounds perfect. See you then?"  
"Yes."_**

The next thing I heard was lips on someones cheek. I guessed Amy's. And then, that's when I took a a step closer to the door in the dark, and the edge of my cabinet hit me on the head, making a loud "thud!" and pushing me back and towards the floor, laying on my back. The next thing I saw was darkness, and the last thing I heard was approaching footsteps and Amy's voice.

"**_Oh my god, John!"_**


	7. Affairs and Last Looks

I woke up, I looked around me-I was in a hospital. I could hear Amy's voice talking to somebody (perhaps a doctor?) about me. I rubbed my eyes, they hurt, I could tell they were red easily. I took in a deep breath, what had happened? How long had I been here? I mean, I remember Amy and Rory's conversation clear as day, I just...oh. Oh, I remember now. That explains the excruciating pain in my temples and the red stained bandages on one side.

The door opened and I caught a glimpse of red hair, so I sat up with all my strength, for some reason my body hurt, too.

Amy smiled at me, I could tell she had been crying...a lot, her expression seemed strange to me, almost as if she regretted something. She sauntered towards me, her arms crossed. With her voice barely a whisper, she stood next to the bed, "hi, John." I tried to smile, but I couldn't, I didn't _want_ to. From what I heard that night, I made the conclusion that Amy had, or was planning to, cheat on me with Rory. "The doctor said we can take you home tomorrow evening," I bit my lip, "how long have I been here?" Amy shuffled her feet, "you've been unconscious for 2 days now. The doctor said your right side of the brain bled, and that it's massively dangerous. But while you were sleeping, they were able to treat it. Don't take off the bandages, they stitched them also so be careful. They say you should be resting for a week or so, you're still in a fragile state." I nodded, I looked up and into her eyes, "have you seen Rory?" Amy gulped and avoided my gaze, "what's going on, Amy? I thought we were happy? D-did I do something wrong? Am I not _good enough_ for you?" She shook her head, a tear running down her cheek, "don't say that, John-" this time, I didn't let her finish her sentence, I was done with being stepped on, "oh? Then why did you tell Rory that if you could 'sneak out' of work you can go and meet him? Why did you kiss his cheek? Amy, I'm your boyfriend!" I saw the side of Amy I hadn't seen since the first day we met, her voice was loud and her eyes looked rock hard, "can we talk about this when we get home!?" I jumped a little, my shyness returning sooner than expected, she sighed, "I'm sorry, I-I have to get to work now, I'll be back after."

My boss placed her hand on my shoulder, leaning in and kissing my cheek. She didn't say a word after that, she just left out the door, not even looking back.

I suddenly felt cold air hit my side and loneliness creeping up on me.

She wasn't the same Amy I had fallen in love with.

I put on the pajamas I had worn that last night and some shoes Amy brought me. It was absolutely freezing so I put on the parka brought by Amy, too. I got in the car and looked at the window as Amy drove. Nobody spoke a word the whole ride.

Amy wrapped her arm around mine as I tried not to lean on her too much, no matter how hard her attitude was, her body was a delicacy.

She opened the door and threw the keys on the table next to to it, I went on my own and walked to my room, everything was how I left it. I could even see my blood stained on the carpet, "I'm gonna take a shower," Amy looked at me and then sat on the couch, the quietness started to make me uncomfortable.

I dried my hair and put on another set of pajamas, slowly approaching my girlfriend and sitting next to her. This time she didn't scoot closer to me or put her feet up on my lap. We just sat on opposite ends as we stared at the television, pretending to be interested in the 'shamwow' commercials to avoid conversation. But I got tired, and I needed to speak of this.

"You didn't answer my questions," I could hear her gulping, "w-what questions?" I looked over at Amy, my jaw clenched, "you know which ones, Amy." She sniffled, turning her head towards me but not looking directly at me. "I'm sorry I came home late that night, we just talked a lot and lost track of time," I knew something was wrong, if there's anything of me that I don't doubt, is the fact that I can tell when anybody was lying. "That's really not what happened, was it?" Amy took in a deep breath and muttered, "I...kissed him, John. I kissed Rory."

I could feel my face redden with anger, that son of a bitch.

I buried my face in my hands, my fingers reaching to rubbing my padded temple. Here she is, the woman I love with all my heart, and she's telling me she snogged my best friend.

Once she spoke that last word, a montage went through my head, and it was painful. I was right, I was only a toy for her. Nothing else but something to play with their feelings.

I looked up at Amy, my elbow resting on my knee, "you never loved me, did you? I knew it, I had a bloody hunch. There was no way in hell a girl like you could love a guy like me. All I was is a joke to you, you just hung around me because you knew I'd let you stomp all over me and treat me like an idiot and I wouldn't even say anything because I loved you too much!" I was yelling now, I stood and walked towards the window, looking at a city that I once thought was beautiful, my fists resting at my hips.

"I trusted you to mend my broken heart, Amy. I was vulnerable and I fell for you, you took advantage of how I felt."

I didn't hear her protest or yell or tell me how much of an idiot I was. That means I was right. All I heard was footsteps and drawers opening and closing. After 30 minutes, I heard a zip from a bag. She was leaving me.

I turned around, my eyes redder than they were back at the hospital, of course I cried...how couldn't I? She looked at me, bags in her hand as tears fell from her cheeks, her red hair up in a bun as she swallowed a sob. "I'm sorry, John." She walked out the door, and this time she did look back, and she smiled that smile that would make me do whatever she said.

The next day I went into work, everybody was whispering and looking at me not-so-subtly. I had found out that my boss had quit.

I tried not to be upset, but it all came back to yesterday and it hit me...

That was the last time I saw Amy Pond.


End file.
